Till The Very End
by MaryandMerlin
Summary: In his last moments he knew he was doing all of this for her. LE/RB One-Shot. Angst Warning for death!


**QLFC - Round 2**

 **Write a story set near the water.**

 **(word) ancient; (word) proof**

 **GGE - HP Slash Luv**

 **Regulus/Lily**

 **Word Count: 1483**

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Till The Very End

"M-master, please do not do this."

Regulus heard the waver in Kreacher's voice. The hiccup and catch was so at odds with his normal, crotchety demeanour that it was almost enough to make Regulus turn back. Almost, but not quite. He had come too far and risked far too much to turn back now.

A soft hiss of pain escaped him as he drew a line across his palm. It quickly welled with hot blood and Regulus turned his palm to the rock. With a thrum of power, the rock melted away, revealing the cavern beyond.

The rocky cave was enormous. Regulus cast a ball of _Lumos_ and flew it as high as he could, but even that could not illuminate the dark roof. The light did catch on the deadly, glittering spike of stalactites that had formed over hundreds of years. A lake took up the majority of the space — as still and smooth as a sheet of black glass — with a jagged, rocky island protruding from the middle.

It was cool inside and the air was stale, as if it had not been disturbed for many years. It was an ancient structure. Hollowed out over time by the movement of the earth, even the lake was natural, formed through cracks in the cliff and filled with the ocean when the tide came in far enough. The power of nature never ceased to amaze Regulus, but the haphazard island was magic-made, as were the inhabitants of the water.

A small whimper sounded from behind him, but the young Black resisted the urge to turn back. He couldn't falter now, not when he was so close. He reached the lip of the water, where a rickety boat sat frozen in the water, and climbed in. Once Kreacher was sat in the boat behind him, it began to move.

The boat barely disturbed the surface of the water, leaving the barest ripple of movement, but that didn't stop the bodies from swirling around them. Men, women and children — pale and bloated — floated aimlessly below the surface in their hundreds. Regulus didn't want to know how deep this lake went or how many bodies swam within it, but it was all the proof he needed of Voldemort's true nature. Slytherin or not, he wanted no part of the mass culling that was to come if the Dark Lord succeeded.

The boat came to a stop and they clambered out onto the treacherous island. It was a short climb before they reached the pillar in the centre, a hollow stand filled with a greenish liquid.

"M-master. Let me, please!"

"We both know it must be me, Kreacher. Do not disobey me in this. You can leave with whatever object is beneath this potion. If I was to try to leave, they would devour me. It must be me."

With trembling hands, he retrieved the worn goblet from a pocket of his robes and dipped it into the liquid. He stared at it, at the point of no return, and hesitated. Why was he doing this? Why was he protecting them? Were the Muggles really worth it?

 _Her_ face flashed before his eyes, her smile, her laugh, the soft texture of her hair.

"You must feed it to me until it is all gone. That is an order, Kreacher; an order from your master."

By the time the broken elf replied, Regulus had already swallowed the first mouthful.

X

The pain was his only constant. White hot and blinding, it seared at his insides and he scrunched his eyes in a vain attempt to make it stop. He was vaguely aware of a voice at his side, of hands on his face, of the liquid being poured down his aching throat. Vaguely aware that he himself was speaking, or more accurately moaning, but Regulus didn't know what he was saying.

The pain was his constant, but the visions seemed to be the only reality.

There was a medley of light and sound, whizzing by so fast he almost couldn't comprehend them. He saw his childhood — those images were the darkest; his house had always been a place of shadows. He watched his parents abuse Kreacher and abuse each other. When Aunt Andromeda had been burnt off the tapestry his mother had screamed and drank for days. The darkest images were always of his brother — cool and detached; shouting and raging; battered and bruised.

It was mixed with memories of his school days, of his enemies and friends (who, half the time, were as good as enemies). He remembered all the problems he had caused or been a part of. Finally, his time as a Death Eater. He saw the ceremony, felt again the lava-hot brand as it burnt into his skin. Heard the screams of pain as they tortured so many innocent people — rarely for information, normally for sport.

Throughout it all, though, a bright spark flashed across his eyes. A flame of hair cascading down her back and eyes of piercing green flashing with challenge or annoyance. It had been the only way she ever looked at him. Never the affection she cast towards his brother, or the humour-tinged annoyance she gazed at Potter. It was those moments where she held him in the most contempt that haunted him now. Sharp words, disdainful looks and docked points — each had chipped away at a small part of his soul. He had even been there that day when she severed all ties with Slytherin, when Severus had carved a rift so deep nothing could bridge it. Regulus had stood, watched, even laughed at the hurled insult simply to save face. He had done nothing to help her.

Those memories were the hardest to swallow, but he kept going because he knew it was for her.

X

Some small part of him was once again struck by the utter stillness of the cavern. Ancient and unmoving, he distantly wondered at how long it had remained undiscovered before being corrupted in such a horrific manner.

The curiosity was soon quashed, however, overtaken by an overpowering thirst. Water; he needed water.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. It shook him lightly, but he batted it away. "Water," he mumbled. "Water."

A faint noise irritated his ears as he began to slide down the smooth rock. It sounded like wet gasping, like begging. It was stopping him from reaching his goal, the precious water. The dark surface of the lake shimmered invitingly in the bobbing light and he shuffled quicker, desperate to dip his hands, his face, into the cool liquid.

Something tugged and clawed at him, but it was not strong enough to pull him back. The words, whatever they were, were too distant and weak — he barely heard them. He would listen after he'd had a drink. Just a sip.

As Regulus let his hands dip into the water, a broken sob and crackling pop sounded behind him, but by then, it was too late anyway. The small, tugging hands were long gone, replaced by cold, clammy fingers that gripped him tight and pulled him forward.

Panic struck Regulus as his face submerged, but he was too weak and the hands were too many. They pulled and tugged at him. His clothes began to rip, his skin tearing so that dark clouds of blood seeped into the water.

He was dying, drowning in this lake in the pursuit of morality and integrity. Had he done enough? Had Kreacher switched the lockets? Had he escaped? The potion had clouded his mind to such an extent that Regulus had forgotten his faithful servant, and friend, though it was too late now.

The lingering effects of the potion, coupled with lack of oxygen, soon had his body slowing. He stopped fighting the hands that grabbed him and looked around at the people swarming him. A feeling of calm washed over him and he looked down into the depths of the bottomless lake that waited to swallow him whole.

A spark caught his fading attention, a flash of red that drew his tired eyes. It grew as the figure moved closer, arms outstretched towards him until a cloud of reddish hair swirled around her. He didn't understand it, couldn't comprehend how she could be here, now.

Regulus reached for her, past the other hands to the arms he wanted to embrace. She had come for him, come to take him home with her, to the life he always wanted to have. Bright, colourful — happy.

Her hands clamped on his cheeks. The skin was pale, bloated and mottled with the water, but that meant nothing to him. She stopped swimming up, instead pulling him down further into the dark. He would go willingly. Anywhere with her.

Dark spots flashed in Regulus' eyes. But as his consciousness faded away, his last thought was clear as a bell.

 _Lily._

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 **Much love, MaryandMcerlin x**


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